Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Micronesia and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Gang Gang Dance to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Girls At Our Best!. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang of Four record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott Heron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
Infiniti,
Wire,
Ice-T,
Alison Limerick,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Index,
Sällskapet,
The Happenings,
the Slits,
Soul Sonic Force,
Radio Birdman,
Sandy B,
Funkadelic,
Franke,
Television,
The Real Kids,
Throbbing Gristle,
the Soft Cell,
Desert Stars,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Girls At Our Best!,
Wally Richardson,
Sparks,
Monks,
Second Layer,
Unwound,
Marc Almond,
The Martian,
Peter & Gordon,
Todd Rundgren,
Sarah Menescal,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Moody Blues,
Eric Copeland,
Gang Starr,
Jeru the Damaja,
The New Christs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crispy Ambulance,
Intrusion,
Stetsasonic,
Amon Düül II,
Soul II Soul,
John Cale,
Country Teasers,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Sound,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deakin,
Guru Guru,
Stiv Bators,
The Red Krayola,
the Association,
Fatback Band,
The Gun Club,
The Cure,
the Fania All-Stars,
MDC,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.